


Toy Soldier: Hopeful Skeptics

by Happylittleaddict, ShyChangling



Series: Toy Soldier [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Chapters to be added if the need comes, Gen, Side fic to the main Toy Soldier fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-08 17:09:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14110101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happylittleaddict/pseuds/Happylittleaddict, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyChangling/pseuds/ShyChangling
Summary: Tucker hasn't dealt the best with losing all his soldiers under him.A side fic to Mallus Fortuna.





	1. Losers Prosper

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one and Two were kind of written at the same time as a few other chapters in the main fic. I'm not sure if there'll be more to this side of the fic. But I felt it was important to see how Tucker was handling things.

Tucker stood in one of the empty training rooms this one smaller than the others typically used. He was alone and fairly sure no one would find him while he worked through how he felt about losing his lieutenant. He was relentlessly punching out of one of the training dummies. "God damn it! How the fuck did I not see that coming!" He says ranting to himself out loud. "I shouldn't have ordered him to be look out, we should have just come straight back to base! I should have fucking listened to myself when I felt like something was off about that god damned fucking place!" He punched the dummy hard starting to splinter the wood that kept the thing upright "I should never have been put in charge of him! Nothing good could have ever come of it! I'm not a fucking leader! I'm not Church, I'm not Wash, I don't know how to lead people, and look where the fuck it got me! Look what it’s done to those around me, I'm a fucking failure of a leader but they are still letting me keep my fucking rank!? They are fucking idiots." He pants hard not letting up on the dummy which eventually breaks, he kicks it into one of the walls when that happens and moves to the next dummy to continue the same thing.

There was a sound of door unsealing and opening. Washington had been looking for him the past few days, he finally managed to get Grif to spill where Tucker had been hiding from him at. He takes off his helmet, he knew Tucker would be beating himself up over a scenario neither of them could really predict. He walks slowly letting the door seal back up, he doesn't talk not yet. He needs to find proper words. "Tucker." Just enough to get his attention. Hopefully the words will flow naturally.

Tucker kicked the head off of the dummy turning as he did so to face wash. "Go away" he said tensely to him before turning back around to go back to breaking this dummy down to a bunch of splinters. He was tired and getting sore from it but if he stopped he wasn't sure what he would do with his emotions. This was the best outlet option he had.  
"Tucker, you need to calm down. You're going to hurt yourself like this." Wash watches, feeling at a loss. He was not meant for this type of comfort. It was hard enough to talk on their level back at the crash site, this scenario was layers above the other. Palomo was a good soldier, but Tucker took it way too personally. Wash could feel himself taking it that way too. He was just as guilty of the incident falling the way it did as Tucker.

"Better than getting everyone else hurt, cause that seems to be the only thing I'm fucking good at doing." Tucker snaps with a highly cynical tone to his voice he punched the dummy again to avoid looking at Wash. He hoped he would just leave.  
Washington takes a moment to consider his words. "We couldn't of know Felix was there." He feels the steal of his helmet thinking. "I know you blame yourself, but you're not the only one who fucked this up." He wants to take some of the blame off Tucker's shoulders, he's the one with experience he should of been the one to be most aware of the situation.

"Palomo was my lieutenant, my fucking responsibility, not yours. How the fuck isn't this my fault?! I ignored my own feelings about the place and guess what? My lieutenant is probably fucking dead now." Tucker punched the dummy harder as he spoke almost punctuating his word with each impact. He sounded as though he was trying to hold back what his words really meant and how he truly felt but was failing in that regard. Wash was right he did blame himself and he was getting pretty tired of people getting hurt under his command.

Wash holds his words back as he considers it all. This wasn't as simple of a scenario as the Zachery pirate situation. No one was dead from that. Wash mentally shakes his head. Washington shifts to one leg needing to balance his weight. He fears he might come across as cold but it’s the best way he can think. "We had run into no issues up till the point of the bar. We had no warning. You can't improve if you keep putting yourself down with this," he speaks to Tucker but half is to himself.

Tucker suddenly sat down hard, finally running out of some of the energy that had kept him upright and fighting dummies for as long as he had been. He was breathing hard and was very sore. "Just shut up Washington." He said to him. He knew he was right and that just pissed him off even more.

The Agent looks down at him, face solemn. "I wish I had better answers," Wash says softly after a minute of silence filling the room. There was a part of him that felt guilty but another that he latched onto. A detachment, this was one of the many reasons he didn't want to grow close to any of the Federation during his stay with them. He wondered if this hit him the way it did because Tucker was involved. He wished he could just shut it off.

Tucker was silent his breathing returning to normal slowly as he sat there on the floor too tired and sore from all his activity to move. "I don't want anyone else getting hurt," he said to him his voice sounding calmer though there was an invisible edge to the words.  
His feet shuffle and then Wash decides to take a seat on the floor. "Nobody likes the people around them to get hurt." Washington leans back looking at his helmet, he wonders if Carolina would be better suited to this talk. 'No, she's just as detached to this all as me.' He thinks back to the day, repeating it, what could be done better.

“These people are basically kids, Wash and we are supposed to be training them just so they can die fighting. They don’t have the time or the resources to do this and WE just keep leading them to their deaths.” Tucker was looking at the floor as he spoke. “I can’t in good conscious do that. I can’t lead these people into something with these odds.”

That was a moment Wash really understands the situation here. He couldn't really remember a time he wasn't fighting someone or something. He was once a kid swept up in the Spartan program and warped into a soldier. Him, Carolina, all the Freelancers. "I've never known a life that wasn't training or war, Tucker," Wash admits. His voice is quiet. "I can't relate to the older soldiers here or the adolescents dreaming of peace." Washington sits quietly for a moment. "All I know what to do is train them, that's all we can do."

“Like hell it is!” Tucker snapped harshly, though he knew it was mostly true. No matter what the people of Chorus were going to keep fighting even without them and that would likely turn out even worse than if they stayed and helped them.  
"We've done everything we can do. We've gotten word out about Hargrove. We've held back the Pirates with everything we've got." Washington knows he's starting to try to distance his emotions from the situation. "I'm going to keep doing what I can do here. I'm going to make sure these soldiers are ready for when the Pirates really start to rain their fire on us." He turns his head, "The only question now is, what will you choose to do?"

“Not really many options there, Wash,” Tucker said his tone sounding almost defeated. “We keep fighting to hopefully save these people. Even if it means more lives are lost.”  
Washington sighs loudly. "That's the price of war." Wash looks to the floor. "People should come though. If humans are good for one thing it’s wanting to play hero." He pushes himself off the floor. "I'm," he pauses." Sorry I'm not better comfort for this."

Tucker snorted sardonically. “Not like I would be any better,” he responded and tried to get up. “Fuck I hurt more than when you made us run drills,” he said giving up on getting up.  
Wash holds out a hand to him. "You're better than you think. You did pretty well while I was gone," there's a hint of pride in his voice. He hopes after this Tucker will let Wash shoulder some of the blame. "Let me get you lunch, word has it you've been skipping meals."

Tucker takes the hand and gets up with a little help. “Been a bit busy,” he said the piles of broken dummies make it pretty obvious what he had been busy with.  
There's a small chuckle as Wash gathers up his helmet. "Speaking of which I'm gonna need to check your hand later." He heads to the door. "Be bad if you broke your hand on those things."

“I can still bend my fingers so nothing should be broken.” Tucker followed Wash seeming just a little bit relaxed compared to before. “Hurts to do though”  
Wash looks back at him. "Yeah, I'm sending you to med bay to get that looked at if it still hurts after we eat." He doesn't think it’s too serious a situation but he remembers when he'd become upset back at the Project and North would find other things to focus on. North always liked to pick health as a better alternative to what other dark subject Wash seemed to be stuck on. He frowns a moment before opening the door, he can't focus on the past. Present is more an urgent matter.

“Dude everything hurts right now I doubt that anything is broken,” Tucker says in a more normal tone. Wash was just overthinking this like he did everything.

"Well then if you feel better after food you won't have to go." Wash is firm in his voice, he smiles lightly at Tucker's voice returning to its usual. He felt he failed his talk earlier but here he thinks he may be better than originally thought. At least he can be a distraction. That's good enough for him.

“Food and sleep. Not too sure when I last did that.” Tucker admitted he knew that he had passed out from exhaustion a bit ago but wasn’t sure when that had been. He sighed a bit and took off his helmet as they went through the door. He probably needed to do a lot of things before dealing with any of the others. Mostly so the others wouldn’t worry so much.  
There's a quick sputter in Wash's voice. "Please don't tell me you didn't eat since the last time I saw you." It almost sounds like there's a nervous laugh in his tone. "Tucker, that is not healthy."

“I meant sleep.” Tucker responds rolling his eyes “Grif periodically brought bits of food to me. Pretty sure that’s his way of worrying. Even if he eats half of it before leaving. Probably who told you where to find me too.”

There's a relieved sigh in Wash's breath. "Don't scare me like that. But yes, it was Grif who spilt the beans on your hiding spot." He makes note of trying to get Tucker to sleep at a decent time tonight. He sighs out, he really is taking too much after North now.

“Fuckin snitch” Tucker said in response to the confirmation of Grif being the one who told Wash.  
Wash simply laughs. "If it helps, it’s only cause he's worried for you. And cause I can be convincing" He heads through the door.

“You bribed him with food didn’t you?” Tucker says with a tone that said he was pretty sure he was right. "Actually no. I was honest about being worried. He was skeptical but he eventually gave," Wash smiles back at him. "He did make me promise to make up for it with something later. He wants out of training for a few days."

“He already gets out of training,” Tucker smiled a bit amused that not much had really changed outside of their situation. “Should probably hurry up though and get food in me instead of chatting.”


	2. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker gets a radio call from the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This.. kind of works a preview for a chapter in Mallus Fortuna. I can say that right?

It's almost been four months since the incident. The army moves on like nothing had happened. So does Washington.

Tucker had seemed to push back most of his problems. Washington worried it would bite them in the ass later. He knows he'd been still going to the small training room from before. It's become a routine at this point. Washington wanted to check on him but he was busy with the remaining lieutenants for the moment. They seemed to be hiding their issues as well. Wash watches them run the perimeter. Moral was fine with the majority of the army but this small section certainly lacked it.

Tucker for the first time since the loss of Palomo went into the main training room to observe the other lieutenants. He figured that even if his was gone it would still be good for them to see him at least observing, he did still retain his Captain status even if he no longer had a team. He didn’t know if this was the best plan but he was aware that morale among the Lieutenants was down and maybe seeing him still participating in some way may boost that. God knows they need whatever help they can get. He made his way over to Washington and stood next to him. "How have they been doing?" He asked as he watched them running laps sighing a bit. It felt wrong but he had known it would when he had made the decision to come watch.

Washington turns his head to see him. "Better," he says quietly. "They seem to respond better if we keep them on the positives." He turns his head forward and shouts to Bitters to catch up with the team, Bitters was his problem soldier, definitely takes after Grif. Though he figures Bitters depression was more at fault for his lack of motivation. "Having some issues but nothing out of the usual." Washington stays silent a moment. "Glad to see you out with us."

Tucker nods as he watches them sighing a bit. “Yeah well figured it would be better to be seen than hiding out for much longer. I am still a captain.” He said to Wash looking over at him now. “Even if I’m not their captain.” He added on before going back to watching the young soldiers run. They did appear to be making progress at least even if by a small margin.

"A good choice." Wash takes off his helmet. "Tucker." Washington ponders some words. "How are you handling yourself?" He looks to his side watching him.

“I’m handling myself just fine.” He replied and couldn’t help but snort a bit at the unintentional innuendo. “But seriously don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine” he said with a slightly more serious tone than he usually has. He was only half lying, he was eating and sleeping more often now, but he still was upset about the incident and it still bothered him a lot. Hence still hiding away frequently.

Wash relaxes his shoulders. He was happy Tucker seemed to be taking care of himself again. He was worried and given his hands was full for training he couldn't do what would be needed to help Tucker like he would want. He wasn't sure if the others could be up to the task either. Wash frowns a moment. 'Are we really all this emotionally stunted?' he thinks to himself. "I only worry when you lock yourself up for hours a day. And unless it’s for a different private reason, I'll keep up checking on you." Wash tries to make a joke, for himself to keep from being too overbearing. Tucker tends to react better to humour then complete seriousness anyway.

Tucker laughed a bit at that. It was a bit odd to hear Wash making jokes more openly. “Not used to you being so open about making jokes Wash, finally starting to get that stick outta your ass?” He asked in a teasing manner.

Washington lets out a hint of a smile. “I’ve never had a stick in me.” He looks back to the group. They stopped running for a moment to catch their breaths. He’ll let it slide for now, but he’ll make them make up for the missed lap the next day. He sees Jensen put down her water bottle and make her way over. He straightens himself up and puts back his helmet. 

Jensen jogs quickly. She slows down and takes a deep breath. Her breathing has been off these last few days. “Agent Washington. I need to speak to you?” She looks to Tucker for a quick moment. “If I’m not interrupting anything that is.” She sounds like she needs something.

“You’re not interrupting anything Lieutenant.” Tucker said to Jensen. She sounded a bit off so it was probably better to not try and hold her up.

Jensens moves her body so her back is straight. "I know you said to do 5 laps, but I can't run anymore." She watches Wash nod letting her know it’s okay to continue. "But I'm out of my inhaler medication." She holds out the inhaler for inspection.

Washington stands there a moment. He doesn't take the inhaler, he's pretty sure this isn't her trying to get out of laps. "Go see a medic if you're having trouble breathing." He has very basic medical knowledge something like this is a little out of his league. He knew though that a lot of the medical supplies were running out he just hoped this wasn't one of the things they were running low on.

Tucker shifted a bit “Lace your fingers behind your head with your arms up. Makes it easier to breath. And definitely listen to Wash” That was one of the few bits of useful advice he remembered from when he was a kid.

Jensen looks to Tucker and then does as he says. She seemed surprised and impressed. She slowly turns around and starts to walk back. She hears Wash shout behind her to Smith to help escort her to med bay. She keeps her fingers laced though the armor makes it rather hard.

Wash crosses his arms. "I'll need to pick up a book on this soon," he says to himself. "Where'd you learn that tidbit, Tucker?" he keeps his eyes on Jensen as Smith leads her ahead.

“What the arm thing? I learned that in elementary school after I got the wind knocked outta me. Helped with that why not this,” Tucker said and shrugged like it was no big deal.

"I'm sure asthma and getting winded are two very different things." Wash has a conflicted tone. "But I don't know any other course of action. The medics are probably the better people to talk to." He lets out a sigh. "But the low medical supplies is getting worrisome." He's not sure how much he should say on that, Tucker's not as emotionally distanced from the situation like he is.

Tucker nodded a bit,”Yeah it is a bit worrisome I guess.” He crossed his arms sighing. “Any plan of action for that?” Tucker already had an area to investigate but was waiting on Grey to finish up her data to leave.

"I might have to talk to Kimball. See if I can get permission to go into the other cities for medication." Washington keeps his tone light, he's making notes not telling Tucker to come. He's sure Tucker is still not over the loss. Besides Tucker had somewhere to be by the day after tomarrow.

Tucker shifted a bit, Wash sure tended to talk to himself a lot. Probably helped him keep things straight when thinking. Still weirded Tucker out a bit even if he had been around it for a while now.

Wash snaps his head up. "Sorry." There's a part of him that forgets he can't talk aloud like that when he's asked questions. Though he did technically answer it. "I'll figure this out soon enough."

“Its fine dude you always do it. Pretty used to it by now,” Tucker said to him with a slight tease in his tone.

Wash sighs letting his arms down. "Alright. Well I don't have much else to do now. Training's over." He looks at Tucker, "I can probably walk with you to the mess hall. Grab something real quick."

Tucker nods a bit. “Yeah probably should eat, it has been a few hours,” he said and stretched. He wanted everyone to stop looking at him the way they did. The looks of almost pity were getting annoying.

Wash walks ahead of him, he doesn't have to shout to the group below much anymore. They know the routine by now that once Wash starts to leave they're dismissed. "I hear Caboose and Grif are cooking meals this week." Wash sounds amused. He's trying to keep the topics light before he leaves for Kimball's quarters.

“That is a terrifying prospect.” He said half-jokingly. It was a bit of a scary idea letting Caboose cook considering he had drank gasoline without a second thought. Grif was a less scary prospect, still a bit sketchy but at least he was more sane than Caboose.

"What's wrong Tucker? Don't want to try Caboose's bolts and cheese special?" Wash looks back at him. Wash holds in a laugh as he remembers Caboose attempts of being a commander back at the crash site.

“Jesus christ no.... that’s just awful and not even something you can physically eat, unless you have a jaw and teeth like industrial tin snips” he said with mock exasperation, not much Caboose did surprised him anymore not often anyways. It was more surprising when he did something somewhat intelligent than something stupid.

Wash snickers. "Too be fair. He has alot of robot friends." Wash can at least put together why Caboose made something as inedible as that. He was trying to be inclusive of Freckles on the team. And Simmons who Caboose was convinced could eat it. "He tries is what I mean."

Tucker snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah I know. Doesn’t change the fact that he can’t cook,” he responded, Caboose may annoy Tucker to no end but he didn’t hate him. He would just keep picking on him since Caboose was always skeptical if Tucker was nice to him so he had mostly given up on that.

"I'm sure if given some easy he can manage." Wash steps into the mess hall. The smell of burnt food fills the air. "Ah, that's a familiar smell."

Tucker scrunched up his nose. “Fucking hell that’s awful, I think I would have better luck just eating MREs all week,” he said.

"It can't be that bad. I mean Grif also cooked," a silent hopefully was added. Wash picks up a tray and looks over the meals. Luckily nothing as horrifying as metal looked to be cooked into what was available.

\--

"Captain Tucker! Captain Tucker!" There's a voice over the radio. Full of excitment and horribly distorted.

Tucker looked startled at the voice coming through his radio, mostly because it was a new one. “Who the hell is on this frequency?” he asked with mild irritation at having his focus broken.

"Lieutenant Palomo! Charles." The voice cracks. 

Tucker froze as his brain tried to catch up in processing what the person on the other end of the frequency was saying. It couldn’t be, Locus and Felix never kept prisoners, Palomo would be dead by now. It had been months now since Palomo had been taken, they had never been able to get permission to find him. “Is this some kind of sick prank?” He asked in an uncharacteristically serious and cynical tone of voice. “Because if it is it is not funny.”

"No! I'm telling you it’s me." Palomo's breath catches. "Captain. I'm alive." There's a nervous shifting in the voice. "I know it’s hard to believe but I'm alive!" Palomo tries to keep the panic out of his voice.

“And how can I believe that? How do I know you’re not just one of those pirates and Felix didn’t put you up to this?” Tucker asked his voice raising only slightly he was conscious of people looking at him now as he spoke. He wasn’t concerned with them, they could think whatever they wanted about him at this point, it didn’t matter. “What proof can you give me that you are my lieutenant?”

Washington goes to speak but stops himself. He tunes his helmet to Tucker's frequency to hear in. 

"Because I cried over you when I found out you were alive! You told me to shut the fuck up, The distorted voice claiming to Palomo cries out. . "Please, I just want you to know I'm alive and that I'm here just trapped!" There's a begging "please listen," at the end.

Tucker looks at Wash for a moment and shifts his uncertainty with this made more clear with his body language. An unasked question ‘what do you think?’ was also fairly clear. Was it possible that the person on the other end of the frequency was indeed his lieutenant and if so what were they going to do?

Wash crosses his arms. He didn't want to jump the gun. It had been nearly four months. Palomo being alive was unlikely yet if this was just to demoralize Tucker why wait that long. 

“Please, Captain. I’m scared and I just want to come home. Just tell them I’m alive,” the person on the line says pleadingly. There's a pause as the voice shakes saying something that the static glitches out.

Tucker listened silently to what was going on on the other end. It sounded like someone was questioning the person claiming to be Palomo.

Wash uncrosses his arms. He hears the alarm in the static. He holds his hand back from the gathering soldiers curious to the scene. He sees Grif at the counters confused as anyone else in the mess hall. 

There's another voice brief in the background of the radio. The one claiming to be Palomo stutters over his words.

Tucker was silent for a few moments as he gauged how likely this was to be faked, and honestly he couldn’t see how it could be, though he had his doubts. “Kid you’re a fucking dumbass.... Lie with confidence, either stall him, or get him to take you to the fucking Mercs. The more annoying, hopefully the better.” He said quickly his voice low even though it was unlikely anyone else would hear him on the other side. As he spoke his posture changed, he straightened his back and set his shoulders, as if that would translate through the radio. It showed he had made the decision to believe that he was indeed speaking to his lieutenant. Tucker gave a brief nod more to himself that what he was saying was the best route to take. If the Mercs had kept him alive this long there must be a reason, they wouldnt be likely to kill him if he was taken back to them directly.

Wash sees the change in Tucker's posture. He bites his lip hoping this wouldn't backfire on them. Washington still held his doubts, but he'd keep it to himself.

Palomo speaks over the static in a loud gesture. The word 'Oblivi' is one of the few things the static doesn't distort. The voice in the background sounds disbelieving. Palomo then repeats something into the radio, "Prison ship."

Tucker listened carefully trying to hear past the static even though he knew that wasn’t possible. “Come on...” he said quietly, if Palomo had no weapons and this didn’t work he was probably screwed. Sure the kid somehow survived situations that he shouldn’t have but this was unlikely to be a situation where that would happen.

"I can't go," Palomo seems to protest leaving his spot to the other over the radio. There's trembling in his distorted voice. "Captain what do I do?" he whispers.

Tucker froze up for a moment, whatever he said right now dictated whether the person claiming to be Palomo would get hurt or not. Whatever he said had to be the right thing or else there would be no possibility of getting Palomo back. “Just keep playing the part. Follow orders as given... even if you dont like them, better you survive than get killed,” he said trying to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

The exchanges over the radio seem muddled. Palomo doesn't speaks to the other in the room. Suddenly there's a hitch in Palomo's breath like something startles him, he seems to laugh frightened. There's clashing of something against some armor. The pirates voice is much clearer. "You little bastard," says the other.

Tucker got an alarmed expression on his face. That hadn’t sounded good “oh fucking hell, whats going on?” He asked trying to keep his voice from reflecting his emotions. ‘Keep calm don’t panic’ he thought to himself.

Washington moves over to Tucker. From the sounds of things on 'Palomo's' end were going badly he didn't want to see Tucker break down again over losing him twice. 

Something snaps loudly over the radio. Palomo gasps into the mic. His breathing is heavy and loud. A good sign. There's a very distinct voice now speaking. "Radio off," Locus orders over the call.

Tucker looks at Washington as the connection cuts off “fuck.” Was all he said in response to what just happened.

The mess hall is horribly silent. Washington's doubts feel gone. Locus though hard to really hear sounded angry There's a chance Locus gets into his roles like Felix but this didn't fit. Washington feels guilt in his gut for holding onto a disbelief.

Tucker looked at the people staring with slight irritation.“The fuck are you looking at?” He asked with an irate tone, he knew exactly why they were staring, who wouldn’t stare at someone who suddenly seemed to be talking to himself? He would have.

The clamor in the room started slowly up again. Many people startled back to their own corners. Caboose had come out of the kitchen at the silence and sudden noise. "Tucker?" he seems to be fighting himself trying not to be excited Tucker had shown up during his kitchen hours. Something seemed wrong and though Caboose couldn't pin it. He knew excitement might be the wrong response.

Washington looks over to Caboose. "Give us a minute." He stands though unable to think of a proper thing to do. He needed to bring this up to Kimball though. Another thing to tell her. He wonders if he should tell the lieutenents. But that seems a poor idea at this moment.

“Go talk to Kimball. She likely won’t let any of us go rescue him, but at least she’ll know he is alive.” Tucker said to Washington and shifted a bit. Kimball wouldn’t risk a rescue mission, especially not for a single person, it wouldn’t give them any tactical advantage, and likely would reduce their numbers and they couldnt afford to lose more people.

Washington nods. He needed to speak with her about other things as well. He watches Caboose make his way from the counters to them. "I can't stay, Caboose. Sorry." Caboose frowns but nods as Washington hurries out of the mess hall.

Tucker sighed shaking his head a bit and then turned to Caboose.“So you’re on kitchen duty this week huh?” He asked putting on more of his usual tone. Caboose would eventually find out about the situation but for the time being it wasn’t of his concern. So he would act like nothing had changed.

Caboose shuffles on his feet. He knows Tucker is hiding things and he knew he wasn't going to get the details. "Yes, Gruff made sure I didn't burn anything," best to play along. Maybe Tucker was still sad and needed his space. He'll try to give him extra food for that. Grif always said food was good for depression.


End file.
